USA > Massachusetts > Norfolk County > Medfield > Town annual reports of Medfield 1890-1898 > Part 4
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* Searle, Dailey & Co., New York and Medfield.
# Mr. William P. Hewins.
t Colonel Edwin V. Mitchell. ยง Mr. Jeremiah B. Hale.
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our thoughts from the past; and it is fitting that we draw what lessons we may from the lives of those who have gone before us, that we may be the better prepared for our duties to ourselves, to those who shall come after us, and to our God.
It may with truth, I think, be said here to-day that the years 1651 and 1890 mark two distinct epochs in the history and life of this community ; for, in the former year, grounds were here first set apart for the burial of the dead, and here the generations of the past lie buried. To-day, we stand at the entrance of new grounds, where some of the present and future generation will lie buried. And may they who shall silently inhabit these new grounds prove to have been as worthy and as wise in their day and gener- ation as they who lie buried in the old !
And, while we here to-day dedicate ground to future use, I wish to make a plea for the tender care and preservation of the old grounds. And the first thought that naturally comes to our minds in this connection is the question, Who lie buried here ? The fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, and children of many of you. It is not for me to prompt your affection and reverence for the spot where they lie, for your feelings are sacred here. But others lie buried here whose lives demand our tribute, and whose graves demand our reverent guardianship; and we should consider these graves a sacred trust committed to our care. Old men and young men, matrons and maids, lie buried here, who, born in England, left their homes beyond the seas, and came to this then unbroken wilderness, that they might here worship God according to the dictates of that conscience with which he has endowed the sons of men. Here, under a charter which, although it did not expressly grant them liberty of conscience, did not explicitly deny it, they enjoyed a spiritual peace. But when Charles I., in that spirit of tyranny which ever characterized the Stuart dynasty, demanded of them the surrender of that charter, they positively and absolutely refused to surrender it. And, after such a refusal at such a time, it seeming that the colonies must either bend or break before royal power, it was a matter of deep import to these colonists whether their brothers, sons, and kins- men, marshalled under Cromwell on the fields of Edgehill, of Marston Moor, and of Naseby, with the watchwords, "God our Strength " and "The Lord of Hosts," could cope successfully with the forces under the command of the king and the impetuous
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Rupert. But the God of battle was with them, and Charles I. was overthrown. Men lie buried here who resisted the encroachments of Charles II .; and, when he repeatedly demanded of them the surrender of their charter, they as repeatedly refused to surrender it. And when, in 1684, the charter fell, it fell not because they surrendered it, but because judgment was rendered against it. Men lie buried here who resisted the tyranny of James II. and his minion, Sir Edmund Andros, and drove him from the colony. Men lie buried here who died defending their homes, their wives, and little ones against the attacks of a savage foe. Men lie buried here who carried in their bodies the wounds and scars received in that long struggle between England and France for supremacy over America, which culminated on the Heights of Abraham in the defeat of Montcalm. Men lie buried here who took part in the disputes with the royal governors of George III. Men lie buried here who bore in their bodies wounds and scars received in the struggle for American independence. Men lie buried here who bore in their bodies wounds and scars and met death itself in a struggle of later date, which you and I well remember. Men lie buried here who, for generations, from the sacred desk in the house of God, pointed out to this people the path to heaven. Men and women lie buried here who have been foremost in every good word and work in this community for the past two hundred and forty years. What ground holds within its bosom more precious dust? And, if we cannot guard the graves of these men and women, if we cannot keep their memory green, let us no longer claim descent from them ; for we are unworthy sons of noble sires. May he who, perhaps, in some future century looks in retrospect upon the lives of those who lie buried in these new grounds find that they were as loyal to God and country and truth and right as they who lie buried in the old ! Let us not arrogate to ourselves a superiority which we may not possess. Glory enough will it be for us if we shall prove their equals.
Go with me to these grounds at the close of some spring or sum- mer day, when the sun hangs low in the west, and "all the air a solemn stillness holds "; and, as we pass within these gates,
" How the sacred calm, that breathes around, Bids every fierce tumultuous passion cease,
In still, small accents whispering from the ground A grateful earnest of eternal peace !"
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And as we pass among these old stones, rude field-stones, many of them without any inscription, others with holes drilled through them for the purpose of identification, others still with the inscrip- tion almost entirely obliterated, with what force do those lines of England's poet come to our minds ! -
" Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,
Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
"The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed,
The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.
" For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care ; No children run to lisp their sire's return, Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share."
And as we turn from these old stones, and pass among others of more recent date, some of which have been placed there by some of you, how forcibly do those lines of our own New England poet come to our minds ! -
"God's acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts Comfort to those who in the grave have sown The seed that they had garnered in their hearts, Their bread of life, alas ! no more their own."
And, as we turn from these stones and pass down across the bridge which spans the stream to these new grounds which you have provided, you must feel that here you have not only provided for others, but for yourselves. And as one and another of those whom you now hold dear in life, whom you love and cherish, are taken from you, and you follow them to this place beautiful by nature and beautified by art, you can feel that, having done all you could for them in life in providing this place, you have at last done all you could for them in death ; and, as you leave them here in the silent grave, and turn away to go back to your lonely homes, you can feel that you have left them here, where in spring the birds will sing their sweetest songs, where in summer the flowers will bloom and shed their fragrance, where in autumn the beautiful tints of the foliage will lend their solemn splendor, and where in
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winter even the rude blasts will chant a requiem over these graves. And bear in mind that included in these graves will be the graves of many of you, where they whom you have borne thither, and you whom others have borne thither, shall alike repose, and await the final summons of your Father and your God.
The President introduced Mr. William S. Tilden, the historian of Medfield, who gave an interesting sketch of the cemetery hitherto in use.
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF MEDFIELD CEMETERY BY MR. WILLIAM S. TILDEN.
At the request of those who have in charge the exercises of the day, I have consented to prepare a brief historical sketch of our burial-place. The nucleus of what we come to-day to inaugurate as the "Vine Lake Cemetery" dates back as a place of burial for the dead to the founding of the town.
Whenever, in the early days, our Puritan forefathers commenced a new settlement, or laid out a new village, as the closely clustered dwellings of the settlement were called, three things were at once provided for : the necessary highways, the site for a meeting-house, or place for all public gatherings, sacred or secular, and a spot for burials,- the "burying-place " commonly called.
In many an ancient document the Scriptural faith of our noble ancestors may be read to-day in words like these : "I commit my spirit unto God who gave it, and my body to the dust in hope of a glorious resurrection "; and the knowledge that erelong the debt of nature must be paid, and that they must bid adieu to the scenes of life and to the institutions which they had founded with so much of toil and sacrifice, led them to provide a place where the weary pilgrim might " rest his head upon the lap of earth."
We have no record of the formal designation of such a spot by the pioneers, under the leadership of Ralph Wheelock, who first took up their abode and built their homes in that part of the wilderness which they named "Medfield." Those few missing leaves from our old book of records contained doubtless much that we would like to know, and this among the rest. But from incidental references we know that this was among the first things attended to ; for instance, in the grant of a house-lot to John Met- calf (where the houses of Mr. Thurston and Mr. Marshall now stand) it is described as "bounded westerly by the burying-place."
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This was in 1652; and, as the original highways were laid some time between the Ioth of May and June 19, 1650, there is little, if any, doubt that the original burying-place dates back to the spring of that year.
As at first laid out, and as it continued for nearly two centuries, it comprised the central portion of the present grounds lying along Main Street, additions having been made on three sides. It com- menced at or near the present Thayer monument, and extended along the street to the point where the new tomb has been recently built, reaching back from the street to the brow of the hill or slope next to the pond, or very nearly where the upper driveway in the rear now runs. Within these bounds, " the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep."
The first burial was probably an infant child of Rev. John Wilson, which died in December, 1652.
The Morse monument stands very near the centre of the origi- nal ground; and the two ancient stones near it, with a perforation through each, mark the grave of Samuel Morse, who died in 1654. These are thought to be the first stones erected,- at least, they are the oldest now to be seen.
The most ancient date that I have been able to decipher is on a stone a little way from that spot, near the lot of George M. Smith. It is a common flat stone, such as might be found in the woods or fields, some four inches in thickness. On the top of it is deeply cut the date 1661. It was erected to the memory of Lydia, wife of Alexander Lovell.
The grave of John Wilson, first minister of Medfield, is not far from this point. It was unmarked by any stone for more than a hundred years, tradition alone preserving the knowledge of the locality. The old sexton, Mr. Plimpton, believing himself the only person who knew the spot, and desiring to preserve the knowledge of it to those who should come after him, procured and erected the stones that now mark the place at his own expense.
Probably but very few stones were erected during the early his- tory of the town, though there are a considerable number that date back to the year 1700 and thereabouts.
Little care was taken in those days by our New England fore- fathers to beautify and brighten the resting-places of the dead. Indeed, in the houses where death had entered there were no "soothing accessories." No flowers were brought in to soften, by their sweet presence, the hard and bitter fact of separation.
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Everything in funeral ceremony and burial was but added dreari- ness to those overwhelmed already by the pain of parting. Our old burying-ground would seem to us to have been but an unwel- come place in which to deposit the precious forms of those who in their life had filled the home with gladness and with sunshine. Wild, unkept, unfenced, a rough bit of the common land it was in those days. No sweet flower or shrub or pleasant grassy lawn beneath blest shades, where those who loved and who remem- bered came ever and again to beautify the sod above the sleeping dust.
A few hints as to what kind of place it was come to us from occasional records of action in town meeting.
In 1666, the "burying-place " was let to some townsman, as it is said, "for the subduing of it and making it more fit for the use that it is appointed for."
In 1696, it was let to Joseph Metcalf (the sexton), it being stip- ulated that "he was to make a good and sufficient fence around it, and suffer such graves to be dug as there may be need of."
Our thrifty fathers allowed no source of income to be disre- garded; and we can in imagination see neighbor Metcalf's stake- and-pole fence around the lot, and his cows and sheep browsing for their daily feed among the graves. In fact, the burying-ground was let for a common pasture for many years, as in 1736 it was voted "that Joseph Clark shall have the use of the burying-place, for feeding, ten years for five shillings a year ; provided he make a good and sufficient fence and leave it in good repair at the ten years' end : he not to cut down or carry off any wood or timber upon said burying-place."
It would seem to have been a flourishing wood-lot at a little later period, as in 1778 the town voted "to sell the wood that had been cut on the burying-place " : it amounted to fifteen pounds, and the proceeds were placed in the school fund of the town.
Eight years later, in 1785, it was voted that " the burying-ground be fenced with a good rail fence all around "; and instructions were given to the town officers to " make and hang a good gate to pass into said ground."
In 1794, it was ordered by vote of the town that "a wall be laid in front of the burying-ground." This was a common pasture wall, and is yet remembered by some of our citizens. A similar wall afterward enclosed the grounds on other sides. We dimly
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remember in our boyhood a low and somewhat dilapidated wall which ran along the brow of the hill on the north-west side, some distance above the pond.
At the same time, 1794, the town voted "that all the trees upon said ground be cut down and sold for the benefit of the town." Thrift, again.
About the beginning of the present century a movement was made for beautifying the town by planting trees along the road- sides ; and accordingly, in 1802, the selectmen were instructed "to set out trees in the burying-ground near the wall in front." Two or three elms, possibly, still remain as a memento of that effort.
A hearse was purchased for the town's use in 1802, previous to which time the bodies of the dead were borne to the cemetery upon a bier, with the town's burying-cloth, or "pall," thrown over and secured with cords and tassels. Accordingly, we learn that a hearse-house was needed, and was built in 1806. It stood near the present Thayer lot, hard by the front wall, and was originally painted, black being considered the appropriate color. As we re- member it, the lapse of time and the storms of many winters had brought it to the general appearance of a farm-shed much out of repair. Near it was the gate of entrance to the ground, made with a high post on one side, and a long brace to the gate, like those we have often seen in old farm-yards. This was also painted of the same sombre hue as the building already referred to.
Some effort was occasionally made to have the grounds im- proved. In 1817, a committee was chosen to "see that the bury- ing-ground be cleared of bushes and briars." In 1831, it had again become overrun in like manner, and was ordered "cleared up."
In this cemetery of our early recollection there were two private tombs : the " stone tomb," so called, which was afterward repaired, and is now known as the Baxter tomb; and the " brick tomb," which was owned by a family named Boyden, living where John Mason now lives. This had become thoroughly dilapidated, and, the family having few representatives in this town, was finally filled up. It stood some little distance farther back than the Baxter tomb ; but there is nothing now to indicate the exact spot, though the Silas Boyden monument is very near it.
The grounds in 1843 were still in a neglected and cheerless condition. The dilapidated stone wall around, the slabs of slate-
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stone, which had then been generally chosen to mark the burial- spots, some prostrate, others in every angle of inclination, no trees or shrubs anywhere, except by the roadside, to protect the scanty herbage from the blazing suns of summer or break the force of winter's blasts, taken together with the other accessories and surroundings already described, rendered the place a most uninviting one.
But in that year the spirit of cemetery improvement reached this town, and the citizens undertook to provide a place of inter- ment more suited to the prevailing tastes. An addition of two acres was made, extending down to the water's edge on the northerly side, and containing on the easterly side the present driveway from the upper entrance, together with the lots on the right hand side of it, for many years called the "new ground," now embracing the Curtis monument, the Langley lot, and the resting-places of so many of those who then were prominent in town affairs. The faced wall next to the street was built, drive- ways and walks were made, and evergreen trees were planted. One hundred lots were laid out. These were sold at the nominal price of one dollar each, the citizens, however, bidding for choice at public auction.
The next year, 1844, a receiving tomb was built, which has recently been removed, and the following year a new hearse-house was placed at the east corner of the grounds, which stood till last year. In 1846, the old part of the grounds was improved some- what : the stones were reset, and in some instances rearranged, in order to make the lot more available. New lots were from this time, year by year, laid out in the old ground for the reason that the desirable new lots were all taken. This continued until a con- siderable portion of the ground occupied for burial by long-gone generations was again utilized for a similar purpose. There is something pathetic in the thought of those old forgotten graves. " A stone, perhaps, may tell some wanderer where we lie, when we came here, and when we went away ; but even that will soon refuse to bear us record. Time's effacing fingers will be busy on its surface, and at length will wear it smooth; and then the stone itself will sink or crumble, and the wanderer of another age will pass, without a single call upon his sympathy, over our unheeded graves."
The next addition was made in 1878, when the small house-lot
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and garden at the south-west end of the old ground was purchased and laid out. This contained several beautiful lots; but, as the number was limited, they were soon all taken, and the citizens found themselves forced to consider some plan of providing another and larger addition, one which should prove of more than temporary relief. Various plans were proposed and discussed, some for enlargement, others for the establishment of a new ceme- tery in some other locality. The sentiment of the people seemed to be rather in favor of enlargement of the old grounds; and, accordingly, the tract of land on the northerly side of the pond, opposite the old ground, but readily connected with it by bridg- ing the stream above the pond, was purchased in 1889. The natural picturesqueness of the ground, its contiguity to the ancient burying-ground, our only place of sepulture through nearly two centuries and a half of our history, its susceptibility to tasteful and effective treatment in its laying out, foreshadowed distinctively by what has been already done in that direction, make it on the whole a very desirable acquisition. It would also seem to be ample in extent for the needs of the place for many years. Within this enclosure many who are with us now will doubtless find their place of last repose.
" Here the long concourse from the murmuring town, With funeral pace and slow, shall enter in, To lay the loved in tranquil silence down, No more to suffer, and no more to sin.
" And in this hallowed spot, where Nature showers Her summer smiles from fair and stainless skies, Affection's hand may strew her dewy flowers, Whose fragrant incense from the grave shall rise."
After the reading of the Historical Sketch, a musical selection was given by the quartette.
The PRESIDENT .- I have the honor to present to you one who needs no introduction here, an honored son and ardent lover of Medfield, the Honorable Robert R. Bishop of Newton.
ADDRESS OF HON. ROBERT R. BISHOP, OF NEWTON.
Mr. President and Friends,- It is a pious and grateful work in which you are engaged, that of setting apart for yourselves and your children and their children's children, for all time, a resting-
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place,- a resting-place for the wearied, worn out, and shattered body after the spirit shall have ascended unto God who gave it and shall be freed from the limitations and evils of this life. The appropriateness of the selection is equalled by its beauty. Nature has planted it by the side of the brook and the sheet of water which give it its name, has diversified it with hill and dale, and crowned it with noble trees. If this were all, it would be much ; but, still, your town would be in the case of many another, which, having filled the capacity of its earlier burying-place, has taken up new land elsewhere for a new and separate cemetery, and the later has no connection with the earlier, and the generations are buried apart. Your good fortune has been to be able to obtain a spot contiguous to the one burying-ground of the town from the beginning, and your wisdom to secure it so that it shall be- come a part of it and incorporated into it, and the solemn pro- cession of death which began with the settlement shall move till the end to the same spot. So you bring the generations together from the first, let us hope, to the last. The town has been re- markable in keeping and bringing down through the years con- tinuous generations of the same name and blood. We all realize that : it gives value and strength to its history much beyond that of most towns. From father to son through well-nigh eight genera- tions, in many families this has been the theatre of life, this the place where the heart has felt, the brain conceived, and the hand executed in all the round of human care and joy, misfortune and success. And to this one spot of ground in the midst the peo- ple have been carried at last, and in death they have not been divided. It is so with those from whom I sprang : all my ances- tors on my mother's side through every branch, so far as I know, were inhabitants of this town from the beginning, and probably nearly all died here or in Medway, which was a part of this town, and each generation is at least mainly buried in the old graveyard. And it is with a peculiar feeling of sadness as I walk through its paths that I realize that from my mother the widening stream of kindred lying there goes back to the first settlement, and that the line which will divide me from them all is drawn between my mother and myself, and that, while all her children except one will lie by her side or within sight of her grave, I, that one, as an exile and a wanderer, shall doubtless be buried else- where. This sentiment of the continuity of the generations in life
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and death appeals to the tenderest and truest sentiments of the heart, and makes, indeed, the sacred ground
" A household tomb, to faith how dear ! "
a household through the ages unto the end, in some rough sense type of that reunion beyond, when it shall be
" One household still."
But we would not have it otherwise than that the affairs of life, its duties, and its efforts should carry some away ; but they shall bear the old faith and character. Lowell Mason, born here, lived and died elsewhere for the world. The sons of Medfield whose bodies lie in Southern fields, where they fell in the War of the Rebellion, died for their country ; and her sons and daughters, if in India or in Oregon, shall be faithful to the problems of life with the old purpose of heart. Many a woman has performed severe and humble frontier service in a cabin on the Alleghanies, or led the life of a pioneer wife in Ohio, and glorified God therein in true New England spirit, and, dying with thoughts of far-away kindred, has been one with them as much as if present with them. So it is ours to keep the old faith, courage, and character. Thomas Jefferson said the earth belonged to the living, and not to the dead. It belongs both to the living and the dead,- to the dead, for their precious memories and the inspiration which their lives and deeds awaken, if they be such as our fathers ; to the liv- ing, for the hopes and opportunities of the future, that, according to our measure, we may not fail in the sacred responsibilities of our time.
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